Roman steps into the room, my morphine in his hands. “That’s why your first response is to run,” he comments, moving in beside Levi with the big wolves following behind. One of them jumps up onto the couch, right where Marcus had been sitting earlier, and drops down until its head is resting just by my thigh.
I can’t help but reach over and scratch between his ears, loving the way that the big wolf pushes against me for more. “I thought that I would never see him again, but he tracked me down and took everything I had. I ran and ran again but tracking me down became an obsession. The last time I saw him was six months ago. He broke into my home and took every last cent that I had.”
I let out a heavy breath, the heartache that I’ve suffered through over the past six months coming back to haunt me as the boys eagerly listen, trying to figure out the pieces of the puzzle that they weren’t able to work out from simply watching over me for three months. “He ransacked everything that I’d worked for until I was left with nothing, and the worst part is that he truly believes that he’s entitled to everything that I have. I was planning on taking a break. I’d saved up nearly five grand so that I could actually spoil myself, maybe take a few weeks off from working at the club, go somewhere nice, maybe a resort or somewhere that I could just lie on the beach for days on end. Instead, I ended up with crippling debt, working double shifts, open to close nearly every night. I would work myself to exhaustion and fall asleep on the fucking bar.”
I keep my gaze focused on the big wolf, terrified of showing them just how broken I really am. “The same day I got that eviction notice, I’d nearly lost my job. Then to top it all off, I got kidnapped by the freaking grim reapers, courtesy of my deadbeat father. As long as I live, he’s always going to come for me. My only saving grace is that while I’m here, he won’t be stupid enough to try anything.”
“Well,” Marcus says, moving in beside his brothers as a haunting darkness flashes in his eyes. “For argument’s sake, let’s hope he is.”
I let out a deep breath and flop back against the couch, cringing as the sudden movement has pain rocking right through my chest. “How soon until the pain goes away?” I question, feeling my head starting to go a little woozy. “Because if you guys decide to do something stupid again, I’m going to need to hightail it out of here. If I could at least outrun you long enough to hide out in the woods, that’d be great.”
Roman narrows his gaze, thrusting the box of morphine toward me. “You’re not funny.”
“Oh really?” I mutter, raising a brow. “Because I think I’m fucking hilarious.”
“Yeah, that’s clear,” he throws back at me. “Now hurry up and take your morphine. It was peaceful before when you were knocked out cold.”
A wicked grin stretches across my face. “Ooooh, look who’s funny now.”
Roman groans and huffs as he turns on his heel and stalks back out of the room. “You’re impossible,” he growls, not looking back as he disappears around the corner.
I can’t help but laugh and as I meet Marcus’ amused smirk, I bite down on my lip to keep from cackling like a little schoolgirl. “Are you ever going to ease up on him?” he questions. “Eventually you’re going to make him break, and when you do, it won’t be pretty.”
I shake my head, having too much fun with it. “Now, why the hell would I do something stupid like that when getting under his skin is my favorite part of the day? Besides, isn’t the whole positive vibes and feeling good shit supposed to help the healing process?”
Levi lets out a heavy sigh and glances toward his brother. “Not gonna lie,” he mutters, his dark eyes glistening with silent laughter. “She has a good point. We’re all about the healing process.”
Marcus nods slowly, deep in thought. “That we are,” he says, running his fingers over the stubble on his sharp jaw as his gaze shifts back to mine. “You leave us no choice. We simply have to get on board and help you get under Roman’s skin every possible chance we can.”
32
My foggy reflection stares back at me through the full length mirror of my private bathroom. I might have forgotten to turn on the fan before stepping into one of my favorite scalding showers, but I can’t say that I’m disappointed. It’s only been a few days since the bathtub incident, and while I’m fine to get up and slowly walk around, looking at the physical mess he made of my body devastates me. I’m covered from head to toe in angry red cuts, each of them held together with surgical string as my body tirelessly works to fuse itself back together.